


Acceptance

by floof



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adoribull - Freeform, Declarations Of Love, Doribull, Double Dating, F/F, M/M, minor fantasy racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 17:22:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7541392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floof/pseuds/floof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's so easy for Sera to say it to her lover, so why can't Dorian? Not that the streets of Val Royeaux are any place for public displays of affection. At least, not in his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acceptance

**Author's Note:**

> Well I'm finishing things in my WIP folder instead of working on the next chapter of my fic like I should be, so here's this.

Dorian wonders if the Inquisitor thinks he doesn't know what she's doing. Because it is obvious. Terribly, terribly obvious.

Really, She just _happened_ to need to stop in Val Royeaux for something. Something which she never even named. She just _happened_ to do this a few scant weeks after asking him about his 'relationship' with The Iron Bull. 

She just _happened_ to bring along her own lover, Sera. All completely coincidental, Trevelyan assures him. 

Because Dorian was born yesterday. 

Still with everything said and done, he can't deny it isn't nice to walk through the city without some cloud hanging over their heads, some person of importance to see and convince that no really, the Inquisition isn't the greatest threat to Thedas since the Blight. Or that they're against the Chantry.

Alright, that one is particularly hard to convince, what with Trevelyan always doing her best to point out that maybe they should be. Bitter really ought to have been her first name, although he can't blame her parents for not realizing she would take everything they ever taught her and piss on it.

Not that he has any idea what that's like. Oh no, Dorian has no experience in failing to meet parental expectations. Also, the sky is green and nugs have wings.

And if Bull's hand has found its way into one of his own? Dorian's only holding it to save face. Present a united front and all that. It's not because he cares for the brute, despite the smile lighting up his face as the warrior positively coos over a set of dawnstone weaponry. That's a trick of the light, is all.

“Bull, those daggers are the size of your hands. You don't even use arrows.” Dorian leans back slightly, arms crossing his chest as he shakes his head. Bull doesn't let got of his hand, and Dorian finds himself smiling even wider. He blames it on being surrounded in finery. Orlesian though it may be.

“But it's a full set! It'd be rude to just buy the greatsword.” Bull smiles at Dorian then, nudges him with his elbow. “Look, there's even a staff. Might go well with those purple drapes of yours.”

“They're robes, and I'll thank you not insult my fashion choices. Not that I should care, seeing as how this is coming from you, and...” Dorian gestures at Bull's pants once more. They were blue today, with little yellow and pink flowers sewn into the sides. 

Dorian was starting to miss the stripes. When the oft dreaded pants had been ripped during the last battle, he'd cheered. But oh, if he'd only known what was coming.

“Krem made them!” Bull smooths down the fabric of his pants with a smile, seemingly as proud as any parent could be, despite there being a lack of blood relation between him and his second. 

Ugh.

“And I thought Cremisius had taste...” Dorian sighs and shakes his head, rolling his eyes and looking away so Bull can't see him shake with repressed laughter.

He thinks Bull may suspect though, from the way he squeezes on Dorian's hand until he looks back to see the grin on that scarred face. It's followed by a slow, deliberate wink. Dorian groans.

“Well, whatever. If you want to waste your coin on things you won't even use, be my guest.” Dorian lets out a long sigh. “But if your room gets any more cluttered with weaponry, I'm going to start tripping over swords. I may enjoy your company on occasion; but I am unwilling to match your assortment of scars.” 

“I'll get Blackwall to make me a weapons rack.” Bull tilts his head to the side, considering. “Maybe a coupla chests. Know how you feel about your pretty looks.” His eye turns soft at that, and he reaches out with his unattached hand to rub his thumb over Dorian's face. It strokes over his cheeks, rubs against his beauty mark, lowers down to rest on his lips.

Dorian's breath catches in his throat, his mouth opening without his say so. Bull's thumb is heavy on his tongue, and he curls it without thinking; feels the roughness of calluses and long healed scars. His eyes meet Bull's one, the other mans face stretched in an easy smile. 

They're in public. People could see; people could _know_. Dorian aches to lean forward, to draw Bull down for a kiss. It wars with the subtle demand of his body to pull away. To let go of Bull's hand, scold him that he shouldn't be so familiar with him. The air feels too still and sweat rolls down his neck as his eyes water, having forgotten to blink. 

Bull seems to know he's pushed too far and lets his hand drop, pausing to squeeze on Dorian's shoulder. He doesn't let go of Dorian's hand, but he does ease up on his grip as he turns back to the weapons, face falling.

Damn it all. Dorian's so bad at this. He's gone and hurt the Bull's feelings once again. It seems like that's all he ever does. Bull says he doesn't mind, and maybe it's true to an extent. But the thing is, Dorian minds. As bewildering as he finds that thought.

“I...” He opens his mouth, closes it. Starts again. “Bull, I didn't mean-” He's interrupted by hollering and whooping before he can get another word out. Part of him supposes it's for the best.

“Hahahaha, did you see the looks on that guys face?” Sera streaks by, head thrown back in laughter. She grins as she picks up a dagger from the stall, tossing it up and down to test its weight. She must not like what she sees, for she sets it down with snort. 

The merchant's face screws up in disdain, and Dorian can tell he's about to ask them to leave. He'd tolerated a Qunari, as well as a 'Magister' well enough, but adding in an elf, especially one so... Sera? Must be beyond the mans sensibilities. But then, _she_ shows up.

It wasn't that long ago that people saw the Herald of Andraste in these streets, pleading for aid from the Chantry. Well, that's the story. Dorian has it on good account that Trevelyan told them fuck off and use their heads instead of their arses. You'd think that would be an image that sticks in peoples minds, but oh no.

Like it or not, as the Inquisition grows, so to does its reputation. Personally Dorian lays credit for that at Lady Montilyet's feet, if not his own delightful charm. Alright, so half the people they meet spit on him the moment he opens his mouth and says something in his Tevinter accent, but he is certainly easier to be around then _her_.

“Yes.” Trevelyan walks towards them, cutting a regal figure, despite the way her short dark hair sticks to her forehead with sweat. She pants, face red; and leans on her staff for support as she gathers her breath. “That was invigorating, wasn't it? Serves him right.” She spits, rubs the back of her hand over her mouth, grinning like a villain out of one of Varric's stories.

That's not even the worst part, because then she starts to cackle. Softly at first, building in volume until her chest heaves with it, drawing the stares of passerby. They stop and point, some in disbelief, others in awe.

Dorian wonders if the Bull will think less of him if he hides behind his massive bulk. Whatever they did, he doesn't want to be part of the repercussions. He settles for gripping Bull's hand tight, and taking a half step closer. 

“The way the egg slid of his face, all splush.” Sera giggles fast and feverish, a glint in her eyes. “Some of it got in his shoes, don't think he noticed! Best kind of prank; keeps on going. Don't need to be there or nothin'!”

“I'm pretty fond of the way you threw down a smoke bomb.” Trevelyan winks at Sera. “Made getaway easier.”

“Aw, did I miss the fun?” Bull grins at the two women as he steps forward. He angles himself in front of Dorian with a natural ease, like he hadn't notice Dorian's faltering. It's so incredibly thoughtful, so incredibly Iron Bull that he finds himself furious with the man for it.

“Not much.” Trevelyan shrugs, running her hands through her hair to straighten it. “Just some noble being an ass.”

“Boss... I hate to break it to you, but.” Bull chuckles with a roll of his shoulder. “You're a noble to.”

“So? Lived in a circle my whole life, 'snot like I got any special treatment from it.” Trevelyan grumbles, spits on the ground again, her cheeks growing flush once more. “Fuckers didn't even visit, and they could have. Now they wanna use my name to further their own ends, fuck them and fuck -”

Trevelyan continues on, muttering to herself as she grows more and more upset. Bull looks back at Dorian desperately, eye pleading him for help. Dorian sighs and steps forward to save him. For all that Bull proclaims to be bad at 'family crap', Dorian knows he just doesn't want to deal with one of Trevelyan's tirades.

Fair enough. Dorian is better at stopping them anyway.

“And why, pray tell, did you throw eggs at one of the nobles here?” Dorian tosses back his head with a sigh. “Do you want another lecture from Lady Josephine?” Which could very well be the reason. She has a habit of finding him after, to mock her diction with him. Dorian may like their Antivan Ambassador, but he's always up for a good mocking. So long as he's not the target.

“And smoke bombs! Don't forget that!” Sera laughs. “Smelly ones, to. Tosser'll be remembering us for ages.”

“He called Sera a knife ear.” Trevelyan's voice is very soft and small. He's not sure if it's anger or hurt that colors it. “No one gets to do that to someone I love.”

“Been called worse.” Sera just shrugs, and picks up a different dagger from the merchant. She seems to approve of this one, because she sets down a few coins and sticks it in her belt. The merchant, for his part, manages to keep his disdain to a minimum as he counts out her change.

“So?! What good is all this power, if I can't even protect you?” 

“Tadwinks...” Sera crosses over to her lover to wrap her arms around the human. “Got you, yeah? Everyone else doesn't matter.”

Bull tugs at his hand, and Dorian follows without question. They might be his friends, but he can recognize the beginnings of a private conversation when he sees one. However he does glance back once they're out of earshot. Just in time to see Sera launch herself at her lover for a kiss. The two women spin around until they knock into the stall and fall into a heap of laughter.

Dorian almost pities the merchant. Almost.

Bull chuckles from beside him. “They're cute. Weird, but cute. Sera's good for the Boss.”

“I dare say Trevelyan's good for Sera as well.” Dorian shakes his head. “She almost seems to be maturing. It's frightening. Come next week, she'll be tucking in her shirt and pinning back her hair.”

“I wouldn't go that far.” Bull grins at him, eye crinkling. “But they're a good bunch of kids.”

“Yes...” Dorian looks back once more. “I suppose they are.”

The two of them walk in silence for a while, still hand in hand. Dorian moves his head from side to side now again, but no one seems to find anything amiss with the two of them. Alright, that's not true. People's eyes go wide when they walk past.

It's just. There's something different in them then the scornful looks he would get in Tevinter if he attempted this. They're not staring because of two men holding hands, no. It's more that they must look comical; a Qunari and a 'Vint. 

Walking, hands clasped, clearing in... in love.

Strange to put a word to it, true though it may be. He's finding it harder and harder to deny feelings are involved. Bull says this can be whatever Dorian needs it to be, but Dorian knows the Bull wants more. He can see it in his eyes, tell it from the way Bull barely even looks at other people anymore.

And when he does? Looking is all it is. Then he'll look back at Dorian and smile, shake his head to himself. Like Dorian is all _he_ needs.

Dorian stops, bites his lip. He holds firm when Bull keeps walking, til he turns back to look at him, brow raised.

“Dorian?” Bull tilts his head to the side. “Somethin' on?”

“Bull, I....” No. That won't do. Dorian shakes his head and continues on. “Amatus, I'm sorry about earlier. I'm not ashamed of you. I...” He thinks of Sera then, of how she kissed Trevelyan with ease. And oh, how Dorian wants. Wants and wants and wants til his heart aches with it. To be that carefree. To be that easy with affection.

“Hey, it's alright. Know you're all fucked up from Tevinter.”

“That doesn't excuse it.” Dorian nods to himself, an idea forming in his head. He grips Bulls hand tighter and starts walking toward a fountain where people are gathered, listening to a bard strum her tune. Bull follows without question.

The crowd parts to let them through with only a few dirty looks. Word must have spread that the Inquisitor is in Val Royeaux, and everyone knows of her inner circle by now. Dorian lets go of Bulls hand.

“Dorian?” 

He turns then, to grin up at the Bull. Then turns once more, climbing up atop the rim of the fountain. The crowd murmurs but doesn't object. When Dorian's righted on his feet, he motions Bull forward.

“Uh, Dorian...”

“Shush.” Dorian leans forward, grasps Bull's head between his hands. He can see Bull's eye grow wide as it dawns on him what Dorian intends to do. 

Their lips meet in an easy kiss; soft and sweet. It's nothing like their first; when he was desperate and needy from years of neglect. It's not even remotely like the lazy kisses they share in bed as of late. It's just... a kiss. With no intent behind it save the feelings Dorian wishes to convey. To Bull, to everyone watching them now.

He pulls away, eyes half lidded. Smiles to himself at the way Bull's eye is closed, a faint flush on his cheeks. 

“Well...” Bull pants, opens his eyes. His grin is positively delighted. “Shit, Dorian. Don't know what I did to deserve that, but damn.”

“It's nothing, you...” Dorian's tempted to call him an ox, an oath, a lummox. He shakes his head instead. No, that's not what the Iron Bull is. That's not what he means to Dorian. “Amatus, all you did was be yourself.”

He leans forward again, slipping a bit on the wet rim of the fountain. Bull reaches out to steady him, and Dorian takes advantage of their closeness to whisper;

“It's just, I find myself rather attached to you is all.” He lets out a soft sigh. “I love you, you know?” 

Bull doesn't say anything at first. He only helps him off of the fountain, takes his hand again. Dorian begins to wonder if he's blown it. If Bull doesn't feel the same way, if he read too much into things. Doubt clenches in his heart as Bull leads him away from the crowd.

The Bull leads him into a back alley, turns around to face him. Dorian prepares himself for the worst.

“I apologize, I was being foolish. I shouldn't have assumed...” He's cut off as he's pulled up into Bull's great arms, their lips smashing together as the man kisses him for all he's worth. 

“Shit Dorian...” Bull pants, eye hooded as they part. “That was the hottest thing I've ever seen. You, standing up in front of everyone, telling them you loved me...”

“I did whisper that part.” Dorian chuckles, reaching up to rub at his eyes. Blighted allergies.

“Baby steps, Dorian – Kadan.” Bull grins. “Baby steps... Not sure I know what love is, not like you humans do.” He sighs, his arms tightening around Dorian. “But I want to find out.”

Bull gives him the most ridiculous look, his features positively sheepish, and dare he say, hopeful? Dorian finds himself wondering if this what Bull's 'Tama' saw whenever he took one too many cookies from the cookie jar. 

If Qunari even have cookies. Hmm. Something to look into.

“With you. If you'll let me, Kadan.” Bull leans down to kiss him once more.

Well. Hardly the declaration of love he'd been expecting. It's a bit ham, or rather bull-fisted; clumsy and unsure. Rather like his own 'declaration', now that he thinks of it. 

“Please do.” Dorian grins up at him, content to be held for now. He lays his head on Bull's chest to listen to his heart beat. He feels warm, and well, loved. Despite Bull not being able to say the words back just yet. “I am so very fond of you.”

“Fond, huh? I thought you loved me?”

“Oh, hush. I shan't spoil you and repeat myself. ...Perhaps just this once. Yes, you buffoon. I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> For the [prompt](http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/12449.html?thread=48395681) Double dating in Val Royeaux. The Orlesians are scandalised that the Inquisitor associates with an elf, a qunari and a vint.
> 
> oh, and fyi, 'cause last time I used Trevelyan in a fic it was the bad end fic; Don't worry. No Qun alliance here.


End file.
